James
by android-ulcers
Summary: After years of exposure to dangerous conditions in their quest to capture Pikachu from Ash, years later illness strikes Jessie.


James paced up and down a sterile hospital hallway, the smell of bleach hanging hauntingly in the air. His hands were tucked snugly in the pockets of his jeans; it was the only thing keeping them from shaking uncontrollably from the anxiety that writhed worms just beneath the surface of his skin. The collar of his shirt not quite even, matching his messy, disheveled hair.

To a passerby, it looked like he had haphazardly dressed himself whilst stumbling out the front door. The truth was, however, quite worse than that. He could barely bring himself to eat, he tossed and turned all night, while a waking nightmare slowly ate away at his heart. No longer did he care about his routine driven desire to keep up a dashing appearance.

A uniform he once wore proudly, the symbol of a criminal enterprise, no longer draped over his form. Once the illness struck, they turned their backs on her, her usefulness to the organization gone. That was the day he cast off the regalia, burned it, and tossed the charred remains in a Celadon city dumpster. That was the day he turned his back on everything he once knew.

At the end of the hallway, James awkwardly peered into the lobby. Though he was exceedingly familiar with Pokémon Centers, human hospitals were something he hadn't been inside in years. They made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, and left a twisted knot of nerves in the pit of his stomach. Despite his past life as an outlaw, he hated to think about the suffering of anyone, Pokémon or human.

A soft voice announced its presence behind him, dragging him away from his thoughts.

"James?"

Turning quickly to acknowledge the speaker, James rested his eyes upon a nurse. Her face was serious, but warm, her gray eyes shining with purpose.

"Y-yes? Is she okay? Er, alright? Better?" His voice shaking, unsure of what words were appropriate to use.

A gentle smile broke across her face in response to his concern.

"She just woke up, but she's exhausted. Chemo may be the treatment, but it stampedes through the body like a herd of Tauros. But I know you probably know that, this isn't your first rodeo now, is it? Anyways, luckily for the both of you, she's built of stronger stuff than myself."

Before the nurse could finish her sentence, tears were already filling James' eyes.

"Ma-", he coughed, "Ahem. May… I see her?" his voice cracking.

"Of course! I'll take you there right away." the smile still present, like armor against the darkness.

They made their way together back to room number 23 where "she" had been resting. The nurse stopped at the door.

"She's awake, but very weak. She won't be able to leave her bed yet, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like to speak with her. You were the first thing she asked about."

Casting his eyes down upon the linoleum floor, James just nodded slightly, a sniff his only sound of response.

The nurse gently opened the door, and ushered him in.

With a deep breath, and fighting the lead in his shoes weighing down his every step, he walked into the room and slowly shut the door behind him.

"James!" a frail, but steadfast voice instantly rose to greet him.

"Jessie…" his own voice muted, trying to hold back every pin and needle prick of anxious agony he had been carrying for weeks over the course of her treatment.

He strode over to the side of her bed. Her form was frail and thin, her skin pallid. She wore a bandana to cover where her hair once was, and probably the most devastating blow to her. Without a second thought, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, before sitting down on the chair provided for visitors.

"How are you feeling, Jessie?" he inquired, mustering every bit of strength he could find to sound bright.

"I'm very tired… more so than I've ever been before. The nurses have to help me into a wheelchair now."

"Have you been eating much? I hope the food hasn't been complete rubbish!" He forced an awkward laugh, uncertain about his demeanor.

She shook her head and smiled.

"No… but I really haven't been able to eat much. I think all those hungry days we spent… chasing after the twerp, prepared me for this."

James looked at the floor, silent. Those days, while still retaining their silver lining in his memories, was the cause of their current situation. Being exposed to the machinery, the gases, the filth, it's all why she now lay in that bed, the cells of her own body mutating against her.

His hand ploddingly reached under the sheet and found hers, tracing her palm with his fingertips, before interlocking their fingers together. She squeezed his hand in acknowledgement, albeit weakly, a meek smile appearing, shining through the shadows that danced upon her face.

She wore a plain, beige bandana around her head to cover the side effects of the treatment. Once, upon a time, her crimson hair reached down towards her waist. Now, however, very little was left but stubble and fuzz. Though she did not show it, it had been a devastating blow to her morale.

"James… have you considered going…" she plodded along awkwardly, "Going back to work for the boss? How are you going to pay these bills?"

His gaze turned towards the window, a blank expression worn like a mask to hide his silent suffering. He had turned his back on that abominable organization the day they had cast Jessie aside, her usefulness to them gone. Why should he ever waste another second of his life being beaten and trampled for their selfish ends?

"No! Absolutely not!" He snapped in response, jumping up from his chair. "They did NOTHING to help us! We were… we weren't anything but pawns to the boss!"

Her smile faded, replaced instead by a look of worry.

"I've sold nearly everything I own. Meowth has been entertaining tourists for extra change so we can eat. I… I even sold my bottle cap collection to a collector. It hasn't been enough, though…"

A sigh escaped his lips.

"I didn't want to do it, but I'm going to reach out to my parents."

Turning her head towards the window, she watched a blood red, weary sun slowly sinking across the western skies. The pollution of the city gave it an ominous appearance, and deep inside, she felt as tired as it looked.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me, James. You've always had a kind heart, and it's why I love you."

He wiped away a tear desperately trying to slide down his face before leaning over the bed. Slipping his arms beneath the sheets, he gently embraced her, pulling her slender frame against his chest. Her frail arms weakly wrapped around his neck, before kissing him on the cheek.

"I've missed you so much." he sobbed, whispering into her ear.

"I've missed you. I crave sunshine on my face, I crave a fresh breeze flowing through my hair, not this sterilized air that smells like disinfectant. I miss home, the way it feels after a long day to be around the two individuals that have been more of a family to me than anyone else."

"I…" she paused, briefly, pondering what she just said. "I miss my hair," she whimpered, before bursting into tears.

The window across the room darkened as the sun finally ominously faded from the sky, sailing out of sight to greet the other half of the globe. Fluorescent lights hummed and buzzed above, their light weak and frail compared to the glowing rays that filled the room moments ago. Nothing else could be heard, except for Jessie's quiet sobs.

James turned his head as the door slowly crept open, creaking as it went. A nurse with a somber expression poked her head in to inform James that visiting hours were over.

"James? Will you come visit me again tomorrow after my treatment?"

"Yes! Of course! I'll be here as soon as you need me!"

Jessie didn't respond, but simply closed her eyes and smiled, and that was enough.

—

James sauntered solemnly through the empty, dimly lit Celadon streets. It had always been a pipe dream to settle down here to open a boutique with his best friends once they had made it big. Even further back, he remembered the days of chasing a particular twerp, his Pikachu, and his twerp friends down the same streets. Those days were long past, each of them having made it big in their own right, leaving behind the trio of troublemakers who followed them to the ends of the Earth and back.

Though they seemed dogged and troublesome, in hindsight, those days were the best years of his life. They had seen everything: legendary Pokémon, world changing events, the rise and fall of great powers, and beings from worlds beyond. Despite their current situation, Jessie, Meowth, and James himself beheld more than most people would in one-hundred lifetimes.

And it had always been them, not Giovanni, who put their life on the line. Yet, somehow, they were the failures? James scowled, and spit at the concrete.

Finally, James wandered into the lobby of his apartment building, and took the elevator up. Exiting the elevator on his floor, he nodded at a Mr. Mime who attempted to quietly, albeit poorly, sweep the hallway. He fumbled awkwardly in his pocket for his keys, before they found their way into the lock on the door, opening their way into their home.

James flicked on the light switch, only to immediately flip it back off, seeing Meowth sleeping on the kitchen table, a cold bowl of soup next to him. He hesitated a moment, only to pull out a chair and sit next to the sleeping cat.

His fingers gently ran through Meowth's soft coat until they reached behind his ears, scratching lightly all the way. The cat shifted slightly, purring softly in his sleep. James smiled briefly, but a sigh followed it without missing a beat.

Exhausted from the day, and by life itself, he put his arms around Meowth and fell into a dreamless, dark sleep.

—

Sunlight filtered in through drawn shades, as a new dawn rose, red and reverent on the tranquil Sunday morning. No Pidgey or Spearow cried out, no bustle of traffic like the other days of the week occupied the streets below. James could feel the light on his face, but didn't open his eyes quite yet, Meowth softly snoring beside him.

Hoping for sleep to take him once more, he felt the vibrations of his phone in his jacket pocket that he still wore from the previous night. Sitting up, he put the phone to his face, his hand trembling violently.

"Hello? Yes, this is he."

Meowth stopped snoring and opened his eyes with some difficulty, sleep still heavy on his lids.

"… …ok. Yes…I'll be by shortly." A choking sound welled up inside James' throat.

Putting down the phone gently on the table top, he looked at his friend.

A look of understanding swept across Meowth's face, the light in his eyes dim. Together, they left the small apartment, and made their way to see their friend.

—

Not a word was exchanged between the pair as they traveled across town to the hospital. Meowth, for the first time since he learned to speak, had run out of things to say, and James couldn't muster anything, even if he wanted the words to come out.

At the lobby, the nurse from the night before greeted James and Meowth, this time with Jessie's primary doctor. James said nothing, simply nodding his head when asked if he was ready to see his friend, one last time.

Upon entering the room, James made the same choking sounds as he tried to clear his throat. Jessie lay pale and lifeless in her bed, an oxygen mask over her face, her pulse weak on the monitor.

"She… fell into a coma during the night, and hasn't woken up since. Her vitals are getting progressively weaker as each hour passes by. We… wanted you to see her, one last time, before we let her go. I know how much it'd mean to both-" she stumbled, remembering Meowth. "…to all of you."

James robotically lifted Meowth and placed him on the bed next to Jessie. Tears had already filled his eyes and were subtly leaking out the corners. Meowth mewed softly at his unconscious friend, trying to nuzzle against her as closely as he could.

James caressed her sleeping face with his hand, her cheeks still soft, despite their pallid, sunken appearance, a ghost of her former self. Her eyelids didn't tremble in response, nor did she shift at all. The only sound in the room that could be heard was the faint whooshing of the oxygen flowing to her mask.

"Jessie…" James' voice was faint and distant. "you're my best friend. You've been with me for more years than I can remember. I…"

Meowth looked up at his friend, clinging to the words he spoke.

"You don't have to suffer any longer."

He gently picked up her limp hand in his own, clutching it firmly in his tired, weak grasp.

"We're ready, doctor."

"Jimmy?" Meowth asked softly.

"Yes?"

Meowth slowly reached up and removed the gold koban from his forehead. He examined it for a long moment in his paw, thinking of its importance, and what it meant to a Meowth or Persian. He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. Once they opened again, he placed the charm in her other hand, using his paws to close her fingers around it.

"Good luck, Jess… I'm… I'm gonna miss yah." he mumbled weakly.

The doctor nodded silently, swiftly walking over to Jessie's life support machines to cease their functioning, ending Jessie's life.

Still holding her hand, James looked over at his friend.

"Nothing is stopping you from reaching the stars above now, Jess. You'll be brighter than the rest."


End file.
